Dream Legion Volume I
by TheDreamLegion
Summary: In this debut volume, the Dream Legion combat the Nightmare Corps., attempt to thwart a civil war, a radical revolution, and combat potential legions of the undead. [30 Issues] Check out the official blog @ the-dream-legion [dot] weebly [dot] com for extra content. TAGS: Disney, superheroes, dream, magic and shiz!
1. Issue 1: Robots & Recruits

**DREAM LEGION VOLUME 1: World At War**

_Dream Legion _Issue No. 1

"Robots &amp; Recruits"

* * *

Created by Eye-of-Eyes

Written by Eye-of-Eyes

* * *

**Eis-Königin Village**

**Arendelle Canton, Fantasia**

**Thursday, 4 November 2004**

**3:13 AM**

_The Arendelle Mountains were breathtaking emerald blanketed masterpieces of nature. WERE. The serene image of emerald trees and overhanging ocean blue skies and snow-capped mountains turned into a grisly scene of desolation at the base of the North Mountain._

_"Anna!"_

_Orange-yellow flames spiraled into the night sky like jagged demon claws reaching up from the depths of the underworld, churning out smoke, covering the stars with oblivion._

_The entire village was ablaze. Wooden beams that were once the roofs of homes crumbled and caved._

_Wagons, houses, shacks, trees, all burning. Horses galloped along the dirt road, their hides aflame, letting out mighty wails chilling enough to make God shiver. Men scrambled to haul buckets of water over to the grain storage. Mothers tried to call out to their children, the sting of the smoke and their clogged lungs making it nearly impossible to breath, see, or stand. Either badly burned or covered in shoe prints, bodies lay scattered along the ground._

_At the northernmost part of the village, on the river, Lord Aren's palace was collapsing in on itself. The spiral staircase that led to the upstairs bedrooms, as with most things in the west wing, remained, but would soon give out as the roof was forced asunder by the mighty blaze. Knowing that, Elsa Aren figured she had mere moments to retrieve her sister, Annaliese, before they were buried beneath flaming debris. With a wet handkerchief pressed against her nose and mouth, Elsa ascended the stairs and listened for Anna's frightened wails. Behind her a servant named Kai gave chase. Watching the village burn from inside the castle was too much for the little girl, and she had hidden somewhere upstairs to cry in private. Not long after, something outside exploded, sending flaming debris rocketing into the air and crashing atop the roof._

_A maid, Gerda, was outside in the courtyard preparing a chariot to take the two young ladies away from the village. In it, she had placed blankets, a change of clothes, and Anna's favorite dolls, one made to look like Annaliese and another like Elsa._

_"ANNA! Get up! We have to leave or we'll choke on the smoke and burn!"_

_"I can't! I can't see! Elsa, I'm scared!"_

* * *

**Bellez Castle – Dream Legion HQ **-** Briefing Room**

**Emeryville, CA**

**Saturday, 7 February 2015  
2:41 [PST] PM**

The rectangular table in the center of the dark room was lit, displaying a 3D, holographic map of the business district of Danville, Michigan. Cryo stood at the head of the table and entered the coordinates of Tremaine Laboratories Tower 4, which brought up the building exterior. Also around the table sat Rosemaling, Dragon Fire, Vanellope, Sabre-de-lis, Shadow Vine, Powhatan's Pride, and Genie Master.

"Several days ago, we received Intel that secret weapons tech was stolen from an underground base in Umbiga, Zamballa. Thanks to our hacker friend, Bell, we now know that the tech has been hidden somewhere within the underground storage facilities of Tremaine Laboratories. This happened after Marianne Tremaine announced that Tremaine Pharmaceuticals and Saluja Biologics in Tangu would be collaborating to give medical aid to the wounded in Agrabah. This leads me to believe that the Nightmare Corps and the Tanguin government are planning to sell the weapons to Zahari sympathizers in Agrabah in order to set off some sort of conflict between Agrabah and Zamballa." She pressed a button and the tower image expanded, displaying the buildings support columns and three underground storage areas.

Cryo was briefing the team on their newest mission at Tower 4. The tech that had been taken from the Zamballans almost two weeks ago included approximately $4.5 million worth of firearms and ammunition, but only recently had they been tracked to Danville. Bell had hacked into one of the stolen guns' tracking beacons. Now, the team had to return the goods to their rightful owners.

Sandstorm, seated beside Cryo at the head of the table, spoke. "If that happens, then the discord in both countries will leave them vulnerable, allowing Tangu to annex the part of Zamballa north of the Kanae River, giving them control over not only thirty percent of the oil in Asia Minor, but also the country's Taleridite deposits, which are used in Zamballa's energy industry. In order to stop this war before it starts we need to infiltrate the tower. Two teams will pull this off: Dragon Fire and Vanellope will serve as the lookouts slash decoys. Dragon Fire will pose as a newbie night guard and watch the security cams of the underground facility; Vanellope will be in a semi on the other block and hack the camera software to manipulate the regular security cams to repeat the same all-clear footage. Sabre, Shadow Vine, and Powhatan will enter the lowest storage facility via a secret underground tunnel."

The hologram expanded once more displaying three large rectangular structures meant to be the underground units. A small tunnel protruded from the lowest unit and stretched over about a block to underneath an abandoned building.

"The tunnel will only be accessible after closing hours, which is when Tremaine's cronies bring things in and out of the building. Most likely regular security will be very lax so they don't have lay people poking around. While you're in the tunnel, Vanellope will guide you past obstacles to where the weapons are stashed. Once you locate the weapons, inscribe Enchanter's matrix onto the crates, and they will teleport to where the output matrices are inside the truck."

"Tremaine is fond of laser trip wires," Cryo inserted, "and alarms will likely go off when the crates disappear, so be wary of your feet. Also, we know that Tremaine Labs has been conducting experiments dealing with alchemy and Martian Voodoo, so be on your toes when you're down there. The operation will commence in three days. Spend as much time as you can preparing."

"Meeting adjourned. Rosemaling, Genie Master, you two stay."

The hologram shut off and the lights clicked on, signaling the end of the briefing. Only Cryo, Sandstorm, Genie Master, and Rosemaling remained once the others departed from the room.

"Whaddya need, Chief?" asked Rosemaling.

"We have a separate assignment for the two of you. About a week ago, a report about a young woman named Cinder Perrault disappearing came up on the news. She was last seen entering Tower Four last Saturday at about nine pm; she was wearing a black hooded track suit and carrying a backpack and a purse. Cameras show _someone_ in the tracksuit leaving at about two the next morning, but without either of the items Cinder entered the building with. And none of her close friends or co-workers have seen or heard from her since then. The police have interrogated Tremaine's employees, but they haven't turned up any leads."

"So, what is it you need us to do?" Genie Master questioned.

"You and Rose are going to do recon. You need to sneak into their Robotics Laboratory on the secret eighteenth floor and see if they're holding her there. She could be one of the countless people Tremaine has lured to that Tower to conduct cyborg augmentation experiments on."

"Why," Genie Master interjected, "are you just now sending help? And why just recon, why can't we take her out of there if she _is_ there?!"

"And what's this about a secret eighteenth floor?"

"The 'eighteenth' floor that the elevator lets off on is actually the nineteenth floor for the building, but there is a secret floor only a few people actually know about. When you look at the Tower from the outside, you'll notice a windowless space between the seventeenth and 'eighteenth' floor; that's the lab. You have to get on a specific elevator and press in a code in order to get there. Before Bell ever got intel to us, we didn't even know about that floor or the experiments," Cryo replied, "and all the previous candidates have died from the strain of the experiments."

"We can't know for sure if taking her off the machines will kill her or not," Sandstorm added, "because we don't know just what Tremaine does to its specimens. If we do this right, Cinder may be the first live victim able to testify about the goings-on in that tower, so if they are augmenting her body at all, we'll have to wait until it's done.

"Your mission begins tonight at seven. Good luck."

Rosemaling and Genie Master exited the Briefing Room, leaving Cryo and Sandstorm the sole occupants.

"I have a feeling this won't sit well with him," Sandstorm commented.

"Maybe, but he'll still do what needs to be done," Cryo replied, authoritative tone becoming more relaxed. "So, when are the new recruits supposed to get here?"

"Their plane arrives from the UK in about an hour."

"Well, send them my regards. I have some _recon _of my own to do this afternoon," Cryo sighed. Sandstorm gave her a nod of understanding.

"Well, if you'll excuse me, I have to go see Enchanter about a teleportation matrix."

* * *

**Qureshi Tower**

**Danville, MI**

**Saturday, 7 February 2015**

**5:56 [EST] PM**

The lobby of Qureshi Tower was a wide, open area with cool air circulating throughout the space. Panoramic floor to ceiling windows rounded the front area allowing sunlight to flood in, bathing the black marble floor in warmth; four black marble columns, two on either side of the front desk, held up the ceiling. The giant front desk, also black marble, was so high it resembled a military fortified Ford truck rather than a desk. Directly across from the front desk were the elevators. The kind that had a glass back so you could see how high up you were going. On either side of them were the glass doors leading into the lobby.

It was about six in the afternoon as three young women idled about in the front lobby awaiting their escort.

Alice Liddell, the lanky, wavy haired blonde from Kent, marveled at a mosaic of two butterflies sitting atop a blue flower, one red and one white. They looked as though they were having a very important discussion, one she would have liked to be included in.

Merida Dunbroch, the Scottish lass with tawny orange locks and a million one freckles, leaned against the column nearest the elevators, a solemn expression on her freckled face, black leather jacket draped over her shoulders rather than worn on her arms, flicking a mint back and forth between her teeth. She stared upwards to the wall across from her watching the reflection off car windows flash across the gray walls.

The other Brit, a brunette named Wendy Darling, sat in one of the gray suede armchairs flipping through the pages of _Their Eyes Were Watching God. _She wore sensible white ballet flats, a baby blue sundress, and black rimmed reading glasses. Her brunette hair was pulled back into a short ponytail.

To any passerby, they looked like normal teenagers, but that was not the case. They were beginning their initiation into the Dream Legion, the amazing team of heroes rumored to be made up of magicians from all over the world and even included an immortal alchemist, aliens, and a genie. They did good work. Saving Princess Sofia of Enchanzio from assassination, helping the Andalasian Military Police apprehend mercenaries who'd stolen military missile codes, and containing the spread of a plague unleashed by an Ursalian priest were just some of the feats the Legion had undertaken, which gained them more followers than haters.

Despite the fact that their heroic deeds were frequently featured on the news, no one actually knew who any of them were, which, of course, garnered them distrustful critics. Governor Radcliffe of Virginia was one of their biggest detractors, saying that it was the job of the world's governments to solve its own problems and not leave it to "crazy street magicians in flashy clothes".

"So what about you?"

"What?"

Merida tore her gaze away from the gray wall and saw Alice, the talkative blonde British girl she'd sat in front of on the jet, leaning uncomfortably close to her, electric blue eyes wide with anticipation, as if she'd just asked a pertinent question and awaited an answer. Wait.

"Did you just ask me something?" she shrugged. "Sorry, I was zoned out."

Alice giggled, "I wanted to know how it is you became a recruit, y'know, and just making conversation."

Merida glanced at her. Light blue dress under a jarringly red varsity jacket, the necklace was probably a Gemma Redux piece judging how tangled and gaudy it was, black tights, teal and gold Jordan's worn with loose, fraying shoe strings, blond locks tangled and haphazardly pulled into a ponytail. She enjoyed attention and probably thought wearing contrasting colors would make her look unique; the necklace and the shoes proved she could definitely afford to look more put together than she was, but wanted to appear lackadaisical about appearances, throwing on whatever happened to be on the floor that morning. Merida concluded to file her in the miscellaneous category until she could figure what angle Alice was trying to play up.

"Well I-"

"Sorry to keep you all waiting so long!"

Merida's anecdote was cut short by the arrival of a woman in a blue tunic dress and wrists heavy with golden bangles that clanked as she swung them back and forth. She was impossibly tall and lanky, and she had the muscle structure of a gymnast, taut thighs and calf muscles glistening in the sunlight.

"Hello girls. My name is Jasmine Qureshi, but please feel free to call me Jasmine." Her black ponytail bounced when she giggled.

"Oh, a new friend! I love making new friends!" Alice chirped excitedly, "Alice Liddell, it is a pleasure to meet you Jasmine! You have a very nice tower!" Alice took Jasmine's hand and shook it with such fervor Merida thought that she might have taken it off had she not released when she did.

"Uh, thank you. I try to keep the tower looking its best. That's a wonderful handshake you've got, Alice. And you two are?"

Merida's mental encyclopedia began flipping through net articles trying to fish out why that name sounded so familiar.

"This here's my best girl, Wendy," Alice said, throwing her arm across Wendy's shoulders. Merida jumped back slightly when she realized Wendy was now standing right next to her. "She's a bit on the plain side, but I still love her."

"Well, not all of us can dress as tacky as you and still have the gall to call it 'style'." The giggly Brits chuckled to themselves.

Merida's internal page turning finally ceased when she remembered an article on the _Washington Post _website about a princess with that name. Jasmine Qureshi. Princess Qureshi. Qureshi. Interesting. The princess of Agrabah was affiliated with the Dream Legion? How far does this group's influence reach, she wondered. Shutting her encyclopedia and placing it back in the pocket of her mind, Merida suddenly had the suspicion that someone was watching her. Oh.

"Merida Dunbroch." Merida's arm twitched as if she wanted to shake Qureshi's hand, but her body seemingly sided against that and her arms remained folded over her chest, retaining her deadpan expression.

Jasmine ignored Merida's hesitation and instead slightly shook her elbow "hello". "Well, it's nice to finally meet all of you. Now, if you'll follow me and I'll show you where you'll be living."

The trio started to pull along their luggage when Jasmine said, "Don't worry about those. Put them here next to the front desk," she pointed to a spot next to the front desk,"and Marian will bring them up soon."

"Who's Marian?" Alice questioned.

"You'll see."

There were five elevators all of which had doors darker than the depths of a black hole and were marked N.1, N.2, N.3, N.4, and N.5 accordingly. The girls were stood in front of elevator three waiting for the red up button to turn white again signaling their elevator had arrived. Two groups of people had already come out of elevators two and four, but Jasmine remained still in front of three.

"Why don't we take on of the ones that are already here?" Merida asked.

"Get on this one and I'll explain," Jasmine replied.

As soon as she concluded her statement, elevator five's doors opened and the foursome boarded. Merida and Wendy immediately braced themselves against the railing. Neither very much enjoyed high up places. Alice immediately noted the bright colors that encircled some of the buttons. Only numbers one through nine had a different color [**1:** Green **2:** Blue **3:** Gray **4:** Light blue **5**: Light green **6:** Orange **7:** Yellow **8:** Red **9:** Purple] the buttons for floors ten through sixty were black. Jasmine pressed the "Door Close" button and when the doors did what doors do she held it and pressed in a code 1-1-2-5-9-2. When the elevator began its ascent, she turned to the girls and spoke.

"As of this moment, you three are perspective members of the Dream Legion. Initiates to put it simply. You'll live and train in this tower for the next three years. I will be your supervisor for the duration of your training as well as one of your combat instructors. I'll be there for you as a mentor of sorts, just to help you go through this process smoothly."

"Will there be a point when we can go out into the field and actually participate in a mission?" Merida asked. She already had several years of martial arts training, gained much needed espionage skills and tactics from working as a vigilante in Scotland, and a knowledge of several types of magic, and many more skills than either of the Brits could have claim to. She saw no reason to have to re-learn things she already knew.

"I'll explain that whole process to you later; I think you'd prefer to check out your new living space first."

The elevator dinged and Merida and Wendy dared to glance out the glass pane at the back of the elevator. They could see the tops of all the buildings in the business district and see as far out as the suburbs and the marina to the west. The sky had begun to slightly tinge an orange color as the sun began its journey back below the horizon. The view might have been breathtaking had it not been so freaking high.

"Ooh. My. Goodness!" Alice squealed.

The group emerged from the elevator into a luxury apartment that looked like it had been created from a wondrous dream. There was no door to unlock; immediately outside the elevator one either noticed the humongous skylight above head or the big, rectangular space in the floor surrounded by a glass partition that was actually a plate glass staircase going down to a second floor; the steps themselves were two inches thick. To the left of the elevator, there were three doors that led to two bedrooms and a bath; to the right, a door from which scents of sweet cherries and savory chicken wafted. The kitchen. At the far end of the first floor was a window, criss-crossed like a Japanese rice paper screen, with a panoramic view of the northern part of the city which included top views of the rest of the business district, some hotels, a casino, and other buildings in the distance, all of which were beginning to turn on their afternoon lights. A long, white divan was situated near the window allowed for contemplative gazes out to the horizon. The walls on which paintings and photographs of forests and deserts hung were painted an electric blue and the floor and ceiling around the skylight was paneled with dark oak wood.

"This apartment is amazing! Alice, look downstairs; there's a pool table, oh, and one of those fancy curved TV's!"

Wendy and Alice burst into sprints, walking into one room, through the bathroom, and out of the other. Out of nowhere, Alice began floating in the air and disappeared down to second floor.

_So she can fly, _Merida thought.

"Whoa, there's a third floor!" Alice shouted, "It's like a little lounge."

"How come you're not getting all excited and looking around?" Jasmine questioned. She was leaning against the panoramic window across from Merida, who'd seated herself on the divan. "Not you're style?"

"No," Merida replied, right eye slightly twitching from the implication of snobbishness. "It's not that this place isn't spiffy and all, but I'm more interested in the training; I was recruited to fight, not ogle at the interior decorating."

"Well, it's good to know you'll be working hard," said Jasmine. She clapped her hands, which caused her bangles to "tink" together, and shouted downstairs, "All right you two, get back up here!"

The Brits re-emerged, this time, _both _in the flight. Wendy had some sort of iridescent orange and green trail of particles emitting from her body, while Alice easily flowed like water up from beneath the first floor. They seated themselves on either side of Merida, effectively sandwiching her in. Judging from their giggles, it was intentional.

Jasmine pulled out from her dress pocket three envelopes and tossed one to each girl. Merida and Wendy caught theirs, Alice's whacked her dead in the center of her face. Probably not paying attention.

"Now, that we're up here and you've familiarized yourself with the apartment, I can finish explaining the initiation process. For these first two months, I've provided various necessities like food, personal hygiene products, and the like. This is just a freebie. Every three months after this, you'll each get a five hundred dollar cash allowance to live off of. You'll have to divide up the responsibilities and money-"

"Aww, so no shopping sprees!? I was looking forward to splurging a little," Alice whined, solemnly rubbing the six $50 bills on her left cheek and the ten $20 bills on her right. Merida would have thought the girl was close to death by the pained sounds emanating from her.

"Yes," Jasmine chuckled, "I'm sorry to say that clothes must come secondary to your other responsibilities during this training stage. This will also be for repairs of the utilities, so budget wisely."

Merida rolled her eyes. The princess of Agrabah teaching lessons about fiscal responsibility, yeah right.

Jasmine must have caught the eye roll because the next thing she said was, "I know that I don't look like the kind of person to be giving financial advice of this nature, but I was taught this way, too. And it worked. Most of my cousins have blown through their trust funds, and they never had jobs or went to college, like I did, so they're having to live with their parents and **ask **for money. And they aren't teenagers, they're grown men and women in their early thirties."

"Woooow." Alice gasped, still rubbing the money on her skin.

"I know."

"Alice stop, you're going to get a rash," Wendy cautioned.

"Training days are Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays. For these first five months, on those days, we'll just be doing exercises and working a different set of muscles to put some meat on your bones. We'll be starting combat training in July. Every 3 weeks until the end of this year a different Legionnaire will be rotated in and out to teach you new fighting styles. Your main combat instructors will be myself and Dragon Fire..."

"Just what kind of fighting styles will we be learning?" Merida asked. Though she was already adept in tae kwon do, it couldn't hurt to have a few more techniques in her arsenal.

"Jiu-jitsu, you'll learn kendo and other swordplay skills, capoeira, that's when you fight only using your legs, and karate, among others."

"How in the world can you fight with just your legs?" Wendy questioned.

"You'll see in due time, young grasshopper. Back to your schedule. Tuesdays and Thursdays, when you don't have physical training, you'll be doing some mental training. Marian, who you can meet later, will be in charge of you then. You'll learn about different types of magic, such as voodoo and alchemy, code breaking, et cetera. It's also important that you keep up with current events because, more than likely, our adversaries the Nightmare Corps will have corrupted the international order in some way. That's all just in this first year. Starting in January until March of two-thousand sixteen, you'll be doing mostly simulation training where you'll be placed in different combat scenarios and will have to utilize your training to devise solutions. During this time, your progress will be evaluated and, based on these evaluations, at the end of March you'll be assigned a mentor who will teach you the ropes and who you'll work alongside for missions. That stage of training will last until September of two-thousand seventeen. From October to December is when you'll begin really working."

At this, Merida's ears perked up a bit.

"You won't be official members, but you'll have the same responsibilities as the rest of us. You can be called in as part of a team for an op or for solo assignments such as reconnaissance. It's like a final test run to see how far you've come. In January of twenty-eighteen, you'll take the oath and officially be inducted into the Legion."

At this point, all three initiates' brains began swirling with questions. What missions would they be given? What kind of injuries would that entail? What kinds of places would they go? What kinds of enemies would they face? Was the induction this big party or a somber, very formal occasion? Did the Legion provide insurance? Because something's getting broken.

"I know this is a lot to process right now, but I have faith that you girls can tough it out. You have two days before training starts, so take this time to get settled in, and I'll see you Monday. Marian, they're all yours!"

With that, Jasmine exited the apartment, ponytail bouncing back and forth as she disappeared behind the elevator doors.

The sound of running water that had been coming from the kitchen off to the right suddenly stopped. Feet shuffled and metal kitchenware clanked and clang before the wooden door slid open, and out stepped a six-foot, furry, _thing, _in a purple dress. It had a big, bushy tail and everything.

Merida and Wendy tensed up at the sight, but before either could make a sound Alice let a out a resounding "AAAAAHHHH!" that sufficed for all three of them.

"Oh, I'm sorry, Dear. I scared you didn't I?" Marian timidly stepped back hoping that would calm Alice down.

"Oh, no I...ah...ah...yeah."

Apparently, Wendy thought that was hilarious because she burst into hysterics. Even Merida had to giggle at that over-reaction.

"Terribly sorry about that, darling. Though, I should be used to that reaction by now. So, Miss Jasmine has explained everything, correct? Besides being your teacher on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I'll also be like a pseudo-mother. I do the cooking and cleaning, but don't think that you can leave your rooms untidy or anything of that sort."

"Oh, we wouldn't dream of it," remarked Wendy, "Would we, Alice?"

"...Yeeeaaahhh."

* * *

**18 Shackleton Street - The Fredricksen Residence**

**Middleton, CT**

**Saturday, 7 February 2015**

**6:33 [EST] PM**

The little babe lay curled up in a little ball, butt propped in air from sleeping on his stomach, a stuffed clown fish clutched in one arm with his other hand in his mouth; snow white hair patch ruffled and mussed from tossing and turning.

Elsa von Riese leaned over the crib to caress the baby's pale, plump cheek, but pulled away when she heard the familiar thumping of loafers on the floor. He was so close, so why couldn't she touch him?

"Thanks again for the all the toys and clothes, Elsa."

Carl Fredricksen carried a walker into the nursery just as Elsa pulled her hand away.

"Elsa," he sighed, "you _can _still touch him you know. He is your baby."

"I know. It just...doesn't feel right."

It had been almost a year since Elsa had given up her son for adoption to the Fredricksen's. The sadness hadn't fully subsided, but it was somewhat outweighed by the relief she felt in knowing that she has helped someone else have a family. In her line of work it was dangerous to have something so precious so close to you.

"Well, you can expect a lot of pictures from Ellie, so I hope that will help."

"Yeah," Elsa chuckled, "thanks Carl."

* * *

**Tremaine Laboratories Tower 4**

**Danville, MI**

**Saturday, 7 February 2015**

**7:00 PM**

The vents stretched across the entirety of the floor, allowing for a perfect God's-eye-view and invisible movement. It was a convenient means of observation but slightly uncomfortable. Rosemaling had entered the ventilation through the opening in the elevator shaft. She'd climbed up and out of the elevator at floor sixteen and rode it up to the secret floor and unscrewed the grate with one of her Killer Bee stiletto knives that she'd brought with her.

Despite just being a level of a building, the "eighteenth" floor was huge; it wasn't an intricate system of hallways, but the length and turns of the vents guaranteed the search would end up being a little more arduous they'd originally anticipated.

_Yo, Rose, you there yet?_ Genie Master's voice echoed through her mind. Since she couldn't risk talking aloud since she was in the vent, Genie Master communicated with her telepathically.

He and a six-armed green-skinned Djinn he called Shiblahah ("ghost") worked their way across the floor putting tracking devices on the security guards. They'd simply become invisible once the elevator had reached the eighteenth floor, just in time for two of Tremaine's psycho scientists to get on. Their ability to become invisible at will aided in that endeavor, and this assistance made it easier for Rosemaling to know where the guards were. Since it was a simple recon mission, she wasn't supposed to engage unless it was absolutely necessary. So lame.

_No, but even if I was near it, there'd be no way for me to get in._

According to the floor map, which Bell had so graciously provided for Rosemaling and Genie Master, the Augmentation Lab should have been at the center of the level. The map appeared as a blue highlighted square in the top right corner of Rosemaling's hipster glasses, which also contained a microscopic camera on the nose to film eighteen's interior.

_Why not?_

_Look at the map, see that big highlighted square in the center? That's the Augmentation lab, but there aren't any indications of where a door should be and the vents won't place me directly over it. It's possibly a self-contained refrigerated area._

_That way Tremaine doesn't risk someone sneaking in._

Genie Master stood in front of a glass partition in one of the observation rooms. On his side there were three rows of chairs, each row slightly more elevated from front to back. The glass allowed a glimpse into what looked like an operating room. No doubt this was where the augmentation process began. Surgeons removed people's limbs, bones, tendons, nerves and all; replacing them with mechanical monstrosities, and someone sat in this room and watched it all. Only psychopaths.

In the midst of the conversation, a guard poked his head into the room, waved the flashlight across the walls once, and exited again. +1 for invisibility.

_Exactly. I don't supposed you or any Djinn can walk through walls?_

_Surprisingly, no._

Shiblahah didn't speak real words, but Genie Master understood her motions enough to figure out what she wanted. She let out a soft _hiss_ing sound and pointed to something on the other side of the glass.

A red-haired woman in sweatpants and a white lab coat sprinted into the operating room. She had a look of elation about her face; she bypassed all the equipment and entered the door farthest to the right from Genie Master and Shiblahah's perspective. Shiblahah followed the woman's path along the glass, which Genie Master figured was one-way since she hadn't given one glance in the direction of the six foot nine green-skinned Djinn and the Arabic man dressed in gold and white robes.

Shiblahah _hissed _again and waved him over. Standing at the far end of the observation room they got a slanted view of the refrigerated room where they preserved the human limbs. The woman detached what looked like a power outlet from the wall, revealing a hand print recognition device that opened a door in the wall when she pressed her palm to the screen; she then disappeared into the wall.

_Rose! Are you there?!_

_Yeah, what happened?_

_I think I know how to get into the Augmentation Lab!_

Genie Master had devised a plan to gain access to the lab where Cinder was supposedly being held. To Rosemaling's surprise, it didn't involve using Davrizhir ("explosion", "detonate") to blow a hole in something. Instead, Rosemaling was supposed to wait for the red-head to leave the lab and restrain her so Mousayef ("imitator") could duplicate her hand print. Mousayef had the ability to copy the features of any organism on Earth and could retain those qualities. After Mousayef copied the print, Rosemaling would knock the woman out with a blow to the back of the head, and the duo would have access to the lab when it came time to actually rescue Cinder.

The plan worked, but with a slight hitch. When the woman exited the lab, Rosemaling immediately grabbed her and slammed her face first into the wall, knocking her unconscious. Her nose was _very _broken. She fell right in the doorway, so it wouldn't automatically close. Mousayef copied the prints on her right hand, and Genie Master and Rosemaling crossed the threshold of the lab.

It was unnaturally silent. The grim cold crawled across your skin. The room was only illuminated by some green light that could only have been produced from the depths of Hades. The overwhelming presence of dread, anguish, and anxiety settled on Genie Master's shoulders; Shiblahah and Mousayef had disappeared back into the invisible realm of the Djinn for the sorrowful vibe had crept its way into their hearts as well.

Rosemaling, however, lacked the sensitivity of her counterpart for such things as that. The room was certainly unsettling and all around unpleasant, but their objective had not yet been achieved.

The subjects were contained in giant, cylindrical stasis tanks filled with a strange yellow-green liquid. Their mouths and noses where covered with oxygen masks and they were blindfolded and naked as the day they were born. If it hadn't been for the monitor's at the foot of the tanks displaying their vitals, Rosemaling would have sworn they were all dead. They were so still. So quiet. There were seven tanks in total; each containing a different body and labeled with a name; not their real names, of course, but a name that no doubt held some meaning to the Nightmare Corps. Rosemaling took extra care that the camera embedded in her glasses recorded every face and name.

_Apollo. Tall, slim blond man about thirty. Missing his right arm and has a mechanical right leg. Code 259HI._

_Titania. Lanky woman with blonde hair and a blade mark across the left thigh. Left arm replaced with a mechanical one. Code C0T8o._

_Stella. Pale skinned young girl, maybe nineteen, missing her right arm. Code BV6N0._

_Copper and Chimera. Twin girls with dark brown complexions and slight skin discoloration around the eyes. Hair in long braids. Code G3FBL and M76DQ, respectively._

_Dirus. A very muscular man. Body covered in tattoos. Both legs have been replaced with mechanical ones. Twitches every few seconds. Code 567AH._

_Ember. Lanky, slender woman with pale skin and short blond locks. Her right arm and left have been replaced. Unlike the others, she looks malnourished. Her ribs are slightly visible and her hip bones protrude slightly. Code C1950. Stable._


	2. Issue 2: Rising Tensions

**DREAM LEGION VOLUME I: World at War**

_Dream Legion _Issue No. 2

"Rising Tensions"

* * *

**Bellez Castle - Briefing Room**

**Emeryville, CA**

**Sunday, 8 February 2015**

**3:13 [PST] AM**

* * *

**2 Days Before the Heist**

* * *

"Why not go and get her tomorrow; we know she's there! The machine they had her hooked up to even said she was stable. It's worth the risk."

"Aladdin, we have too much on our plate right now! The Zaharists are getting more and more aggressive and we can't afford to take our eyes off them for one moment."

"We know where Tremaine's keeping the guns. We take 'em, and they've got nothing."

"Even if it was that easy, which, let's be clear, it isn't and never will be, Anna threw a huge monkey wrench right in our plans for the heist, when she slammed that woman's head into the wall!"

Genie Master vigorously rubbed his temples in an effort to calm his raging headache. The bright light of the holograph table did nothing to ease that consternation, but that was of little concern to Sandstorm, whose hands were pressed flat against the table as she leaned on it in an effort to balance on her shaky legs. The conversation between she and Genie Master had raged on in the Briefing Room for several arduous minutes and showed no signs of progressing beyond his urge to rescue Cinder Perrault. She completely comprehended the desire to save the girl, but, even with the medical know-how of Enchanter and the equipment they had at Bellez, the Legion had no way of properly rehabilitating Cinder. They didn't understand the technical skill that went into combining machines and humans. The idea of mechanical organs and limbs had only recently been brought to public attention; up until about 2011, people still relied heavily on alchemy or pills and serums from plants for their medical treatments. Whatever knowledge real-world professionals had was all that the Legion had as well, and, at the moment, those professionals worked for Tremaine. Still, none of those points seemed to reach Genie Master.

Cryo sat patiently at the head of the table, still dressed in her pajamas, awaiting the end of the dispute. She felt it was always better to let people get out their frustrations when the feelings arose; allowing emotions to run free every now and again allowed for honest conversation and much less stifled strife between team mates. Therefore, she made no immediate efforts to end Sandstorm and Genie Master's increasingly audible argument. Vanellope, Lioness, Restless Knight, and White Arrow, who were also seated in the Briefing Room, did not pick up on that sentimentality and stared awkwardly at the ceiling, their hands, flecks of dust on their night attire.

Cryo had called this meeting to develop a contingency plan in the instance that the heist didn't pan out. This decision had come right after Rosemaling and Genie Master had brought the footage from Tower 4 to Cryo and Sandstorm, who'd been waiting at Bellez, at approximately 10:18 the previous night. The image of those people trapped in their glass coffins gnawed at the back of Cryo's mind for several hours as she tried to doze off. Around one o'clock, doubt crept its way into her heart and mind and suddenly every plan the Legion had made concerning the weapons and Agrabah seemed completely foolish. The heist would fail, Tremaine would get the weapons to the Zaharists, there would be a hostile takeover in Agrabah, the ensuing confrontation between Zamballa and Agrabah would only worsen the situation.

The US had recently adopted a policy of quasi-isolationism, refusing to interfere with the internal conflicts of other nations unless directly asked for assistance, except in the case of disaster relief. Nations where the US was already a major presence, like Iraq and Israel, were the other exceptions, but places like Agrabah, Ursalia, and Andalasia, who never truly had any alliance or relationship with the US, would have to make due with whatever defense systems they had. Being the wealthy nation that is was, the Sultan did not see a need to have a large standing army in Agrabah with powerful, dependent nations like Yongandde, Fantasia, and Enchanzio willing to protect the country and their trades. However, with a powerful, radioactive, seemingly inexhaustible, and highly volatile energy source like Taleridite in the hands of maniacs like Mozenrath and his fanatics, not even those armies had a substantial chance of being victorious. Therefore, Cryo concluded that it would be optimum for the Legion to have a strategy to quell the conflict themselves if her suspicions were warranted.

"This is your birthplace we're talking about, Aladdin. It may not be where you call home, but don't you care at all what happens to it?" Restless Knight questioned.

When Cryo had elected to announce that the retrieval of the cyborg subjects would be postponed until Agrabah was dealt with, Genie Master came unglued. Restless Knight, White Arrow, and Lioness had chimed in on the conversation, trying to explain to him why the conflict in Agrabah had to take precedence over Cinder and the other subjects.

"Of course I care, Aurora! I care about those people in Agrabah and the ones in that robotics lab. But, it seems to me that you all care more about getting one over on the Nightmare Corps than actually saving people!"

"We are not arguing 'the needs of the many verse the few' viewpoint," Lioness interjected, "We're just trying to get you to see the far-reaching ramifications of letting the hostilities in Agrabah escalate more than they already have."

"Yeah, forget about _experiments. _If Tangu does annex that Northern area of Zamballa and gets a hold on all those Taleridite deposits, they'll not only have a never-ending supply of super-batteries, but combined with Tangu's diamond steel, we'll have armored tanks the size of whales more powerful than any magic, sci-fi death laser, or god you could name treading over everything in the Middle East, _plus_ the cyborg armies Tremaine may be providing Saluja if their recent business transactions and Rosemaling's footage are any indication. We can't risk letting that happen just to save five or six people, who, from the footage, seem to be responding well enough to their augmentations. They may suffer through possibly _reversible _brainwashing and be able to recover, but if the Brat Prince gets what he wants, say goodbye to the religious minorities, ethnic minorities, women's rights; Mozenrath will have control of, if not the whole thing, a large chunk of the nation. He can and will manipulate and control the people with fear of his dark magic and that will cause a lot of problems for not just the Middle East but the rest of the world. He _has_ to come _first._"

Judging by the sudden quiet that enveloped the room, no one had expected anything from Vanellope to carry such weight as she was known more for her playfulness than her maturity in situations like the one at hand. Her hyperbolic tank metaphor and hypothetical genocide statement seemed to click on some level with Genie Master that the others' previous comments did not, because his brow un-furrowed, the tension in his shoulders alleviated, and, with a heavy sigh, he took his seat beside Lioness once again.

Aware that the argument was far from over, but needing to get back to the real topic of the meeting, Cryo resumed her strategy outline once sufficient tension had dissipated from the room.

"As I was saying, Rosemaling's aggression may have alerted Tremaine and the Corps to our surveillance, if they weren't already suspicious, but it has afforded us a stall in the shipping of the weapons. Marianne will want to do a systems check of every single computer and machine in the building to be sure that we haven't left her any presents in the form of a virus or phone wiretap. A massive overhaul with a corporation that big will no doubt take a lot of a time and money. However, we can't become complacent and assume that the heist will go off without a hitch because we would still have Mozenrath to deal with. So, this team will be sent into Agrabah to locate and infiltrate the Zaharists headquarters and scatter their forces as best you can. Sandstorm, what can you tell us about the informant that contacted you?"

"She says her name is Sadira. She says she was a member of the Zaharist faction but has since defected." Despite the obvious contemptuous trembling of her limbs and angry sweat beads forming on her forehead, Sandstorm elected to remain standing; her voice was surprisingly calm. "The last time I was home in Wahhah, she sent me a letter by one of my maids who read it to me; the message said that she had lost faith in Mozenrath and his "cause" and she'd be willing to give up his hiding hole and other Zaharist strongholds if I would get her and her family to America, or at the least, out of Agrabah. That letter came to me almost five months ago, and I wasn't able to contact her any further because there was no sending address nor did the maid she gave the letter to get any more information from her. It seemed like the connection was short lived until I read the letter for myself."

Cryo mashed a button on the console in front of her and a scan of the letter appeared on the large, flat computer screen behind her at the back of the Briefing Room. It was the only other object, besides the holographic table, that occupied the room.

"She'd written little messages within the letter. I skimmed through and noticed a significant amount of misspellings and extra letters in her words, and when I pulled those letters out, I found what I think are supposed to be hints of where Zaharist strongholds are. I've translated the letter and highlighted and spelled out the clues."

_Your Highnes**z**,_

_It ha**a**s been far too long since I h**h**ave seen a fri**i**endly face or**r** heard a ki**i**nd word. Holed up in this**s** sweltering palace in the desert, a b**b**light on the surface of th**i** earth, z**z**ealots all a**a**r**r**ound me, pr**r**aising Moze**e**nrath and his psy**k**otic ra**a**vings agains**t**t the crown. Ta**a**lks of burning you al**j**ve, ha**a**nging th**h**e S**s**ultan's dead body upon a meat h**h**ook a**a**nd parading th**h**e a**a**bismal**l** si**i**ght before the ca**a**mera's of all th**h**e repor**r**ter's wh**h**o'll ine**e**vita**a**bly come and film these v**v**icious atr**r**ocities, but encourage no assistance. I a**a**m**m** rea**a**ching out to you to impl**l**ore you to hel**l**p my fa**a**mily flee t**t**his wretched**d** place. Bu**u**t, I do be**e**lieve I owe you a reasoning to compl**l**y with**h** this request. I ha**a**ve long since lost th**h**e hope that**t** o**o**ur homeland will ever evolve b**b**eyond the hovel of wrecked fa**a**natics and greedy governors**s** that it has s**s**o clearly beco**o**me and I do**o**n**n**'t believe Zahar**r** will bring a**a**bout the much needed j**j**ustice and enlighte**e**nment that the pe**e**ople d**dd**e**e**s**s**eerrve._

_Pleas**s**e forgive my spe**e**lling. I've been told that I am twice the ar**r**tist my sisters are, but sadly not t**t**wice the speller._

_-Sadira_

**_Zahir is bizarre | Katajah | Shahalia Rheavr | A mall at duel hah | To bassoon | Ra Jeed Dessert_**

"I'm not entirely certain what exactly the other clues are alluding to, but I know that the first clue is a reference to the Zahir Bazaar in the capitol city, Wahhah. It's this long avenue of vendors and craftsman just outside the Old City that is pretty much a small city itself. I'm sure you'll be able to figure the other clues out later."

"You'll be operating out of the upper rooms of the royal palace," Cryo stated, taking back the reins of the briefing, "and you'll be assisted by Sandstorms cousin, Prince Fayyaad. He's an honorary member, so you won't have to worry about him blowing your cover."

No one bothered to bring up the question of why Sandstorm couldn't return to Agrabah and assist in the operation herself, because they already knew. Since the ascension of Mozenrath to the position of leader of the group a year prior, the Zaharists had experienced an immense influx of followers who would succumb to his radical fear mongering and come to bear a hatred of the Qureshi. To protect his only heir from the Zaharists and her own obduracy, the Sultan banished Sandstorm from the country where she had spent the past eleven months –and the rest of the months- in America in exile. In spite of the considerably foreboding number of supporters he had, Mozenrath had neither the strategic cognizance nor weaponry to do substantial harm to the Sultan or send assassins to America in pursuit of the princess. Yet.

"While you're there, communication will have to be limited. The citizens of the capitol are extremely divided, so no doubt there could be prying hands, eyes, and ears in the palace. Tensions are very high, so be very careful of who you talk to and where. Do you understand?"

The group nodded, slightly shifting in their chairs, filled with exhilaration for the coming mission and relief that they could finally go back home and catch up on some sleep.

"Good, because you'll be leaving tonight."

* * *

**Qureshi Tower - The Apartment**

**Danville, MI**

**Sunday, 8 February 2015**

**11:18 [EST] AM**

The mid-morning sun shone through the windows, heating the ivory carpet underneath their feet. The second floor of the triplex apartment at the peak of Qureshi Tower had a very library meets Grandma's fireplace kind of warmth to it. Unlike the top floor, the walls of the second were made to look like smooth oak wood to give the room a cool and relaxing look. To the right of the staircase the first of several small bookshelves holding various classic novels and the odd manual for practicing alchemy, a billiards table sat to the left, and a tiny den area was situated directly behind the staircase. A couch, several ottomans and tiny pillows spread throughout the space ensured that any sore bodies that came for a rest would find comfort atop a colorful throne of plush satins. Books lined the walls for days; a shelf to the left and right made the walls while sunlight reached down from above and behind. Merida sat slouched back on the couch, again sandwiched between Alice and Wendy, listening to Marian recite the names and abilities of Legionnaires who popped up on the seventy-two inch TV screen. It would be a long time until they actually got to meet any of them outside of Miss Jasmine, Dragon Fire, and Marian, so, in an attempt to familiarize the girls with their future teammates, Marian set up the quaint DVD presentation to introduce the members and also different subjects that they would be studying in their class sessions.

"What the heck are we looking at, an Oscar trophy?" Alice questioned.

The first photo that came up featured a man with a _magnificent_ physique. He wore only one piece of clothing; a piece of cloth that wrapped around his waist and between his legs to just cover his groin. Exposed were his toned pectorals, taut calves and thighs, and nearly every other muscular region you could think of. Arguably his two most astounding features were his long blonde locks that seemed to float around his face and his equally golden skin.

"If he was, I'm pretty sure more people would get into acting," Wendy chuckled, a slight rosy blush spreading across her cheeks. Merida curled into the fetal position, pulling her already folded arms closer to her body in an attempt to contain the heat spreading over body.

Marian chuckled. "His name is Dj'alun Xela [JA-loon ZEE-la]. I hope I said that right. We call him Phoebus since it's so much simpler. It means 'sun god', and, you know, it just...rolls off the tongue. Phoeeeebus-"

"Phoeeeebus," Alice repeated. It was an involuntary response at this point in her life. When she was younger, her parents and teachers had helped her to learn her how to pronounce spelling words and read better by doing the same, so whenever anyone drew out their vowels the way Marian had she caught herself doing it again. Even so, that didn't stop her from blushing intensely when the room quieted.

"Yes, that's very good, Alice."

"Eeeeh...thanks," Alice squeaked, pulling her bangs over her eyes.

"Phoebus is an alien; we don't know exactly where he's from and he's never told us."

"Great first choice for the 'get-to-know-you' portion of this morning," Merida remarked.

"Yes, well, there's always something missing out of someone's backstory, so try and get used it. As I was saying, he's never told us where he comes from, but he has told us a lot about himself. The loin cloth he's wearing is what he covers himself with when he's not wearing his equally shiny golden armor. According to him, the upper class of his home world are meant to be paragons of physical perfection, and so they do not wear the traditional attire of their people so that they may display to others their perfect physiques."

"Can you say narcissist?"

"M-E-R-I," Alice whispered.

Merida found herself rolling her eyes for about the nine-thousandth time that morning. She considered herself a mostly even-tempered person, but Alice had a knack for irritating her to the point where she literally started itching whenever the blonde started talking. Good thing they didn't share a bedroom. "You forgot the D-A."

"No, I'm pretty sure I'm sitting right next to one."

Wendy's cheeks inflated to the size of globes from trying to stifle her laughter, turning her red face to the window as if that hid it. Merida wanted nothing more than to punch her straight in the jaw right then and there, but she would just have to wait until physical training started. At least all the bruises would look accidental then.

Marian continued as if the interruption didn't even happen, if only to keep herself from bursting with laughter. "He chose the name 'Aurelian'. It's like a title of some kind on his home world that means 'golden being', which fits because just about everything about him is gold colored. His skin, hair, armor, and the sun staff that he carries around with him. See? He's polishing it in this picture."

Marian pressed a button on the DVD remote and the presentation transitioned to another picture of a shirtless Phoebus sitting at a table polishing his nine-foot staff across from a woman with tangled scarlet red hair polishing an equally large and golden trident.

"Who's that lady?" Wendy asked.

"_THAT_ is Pilate. She's been living up here for the past three years, but is originally from Atlantica."

"Wait? Which one is Atlantica?" Alice asked. "Is it the one under the sea or the one with all the white-haired brown people?"

"It's the one under the sea," Wendy replied. "Is she a part of the Legion as well?"

"Just how many members are there?" Merida chimed in.

Marian paused for a moment, contemplating the questions she'd been asked. She stroked the auburn fur on her chin as she calculated the numbers in her head. The girls thought up numbers in their own minds trying to predict the total Legionnaires. Twelve? Forty-two? A hundred?

"Well, I'll put it like this," Marian answered, "Currently, here are twenty-nine members total, including the three of you, but only sixteen slash fifteen of them are _official_ _Legionnaires_. That's a little more than half of the total number. The official Legionnaires are the ones who are in direct conflict with the Nightmare Corps. They take an oath to, you know, protect the defenseless and fight for justice and all the good stuff. The other thirteen slash fourteen, we'll call them the 'Reserve Forces'. The Reserve Forces do have the same duties as official Legionnaires, but have limitations on them that prevent them from being ready to enter combat situations as readily as the Legionnaires could. For example, Crystal Keeper, your second combat teacher, is the queen of Atlantis. Unless it's a dire situation, she can't leave home as often as Cryo would need her to because of her political responsibilities. Enchanter, who you'll also meet later, in her everyday life goes by Doctor Giselle Adams, a surgeon. Doctor Jane Porter, Animalia, is a zoologist who lives in _Africa_. It would be hard for them to fulfill the other duties of the oath because of their occupations, and the sixteen slash fifteen official Legionnaires all conveniently reside in America at this time. Vanellope is an Empress on her home planet, Azúcar, but is considered an official Legionnaire because, for whatever reason, she can aid the Legion without inhibitors. That's why I said there are only 'sixteen slash fifteen' official Legionnaires."

The trio remained slumped back on the couch, minds swirling with more thoughts. Certainly, the Legion wasn't as big as they first thought but twenty wasn't as small as it sounded. Did having the queen of Atlantis on their side mean the Legion held some amount political power? If the princess of Agrabah was a member, it wasn't that big of a stretch. How powerful were other members? What about their enemies? Would more join the ranks as time went on?

Marian continued through the rest of the presentation listing off members, their abilities, and backstories. Pilate was a princess from Atlantica; she'd come to the surface to search for a witch who'd stolen her voice. So far, the search hadn't produced anything fruitful, therefore, she spent time using her impressive sword fighting skills to aid the Legion in the hopes that they could help her in that endeavor. Next came Fleur E. Blanchet, White Arrow. The youngest member of the Legion at fifteen. She was the step-daughter of German weapons manufacturer Grim Enterprise's CEO, Grimhilde Mal. As her name implied, she was skilled in archery and her haunting, yet lovely pale, white skin, coupled with her swift movements, gave the impression of a ghost archer. Sabre-de-lis, Belle Molyreux, hailed from France and had spent the past eight years studying different types of swords and swordsmanship. She'd mastered the rapier, the gladius, stiletto knives, and the katana, to name a few. Cryo, the hydrokinetic leader, and Rosemaling, the gun fanatic, were sisters from Fantasia. Marian's own husband, Robyn, went under the code name Robin Hood, fighting as an archer as well; in fact, he was the one to train White Arrow in the ways of archery and parkour. She also mentioned several forms of kinesis, which almost every member of the Legion could utilize at least one of. Arborkinesis, erebokinesis, pyrokinesis, sunakinesis. Spatial manipulation, astral projection, precognition, and telepathy were just some of the magical techniques mentioned, but there was no way that that was all.

"This is quite _a lot _of information to take in," Wendy sighed._ "_How long ago was the Legion formed? Did you spend all this time studying the members and the kinds of magic they use?"

Marian shrugged her shoulders. "No, I didn't study them at all. For a very long time after I arrived on Earth, I spent most of my time at Bellez Castle and up here in the tower; when the subject of training new recruits came up, Sandstorm and Dragon Fire were nominated for the duty, I simply volunteered to do the oral teaching because I had time since I don't go on missions and I can't be out in public. Therefore, I wouldn't miss out on teaching the material. I'm not at all sure when the Legion formed. Maybe you could ask Miss Jasmine about it, because I wasn't on Earth when it happened."

"Woooooaaaaahhhhh, you're an alien, too!?" Alice gasped, snapping a picture of Marian, understandably stunned from having an iPhone suddenly shoved in her face. "I. MUST. TWEET. THIS. Hashtag 'ET Phone Home'."

"You aren't _really _going to tweet that are you?"

"No, Merida, I'm not THAT dumb." The room went silent again, all eyes on Alice. "Don't gimme that look."

"Well," Marian sighed, "I think that's all we'll do today. Maybe you girls would like to go sightseeing. At least, until dinnertime. Your training starts tomorrow, so you might as well get in all the free time you can."

Alice sprang up from the couch, leaving a warm sunken in cushion in the spot where she'd been sitting. "_That _is an excellent idea! It finally gives me a reason to spend some of this money! WHOOO!" She snatched Wendy up by the wrist and zoomed upstairs to wash up leaving Merida and Marian in her dust.

* * *

**An Abandoned Palace**

**Rajida Desert, Tabassum Province, Agrabah**

**Monday, 9 February 2015 [Sunday, 8 Feb]**

**2:24 PM [11:24 AM EST]**

Sand poured through the shattered ruins of what one was a magnificent rose colored glass dome like a small stream of water poured from a glass. The place had once been an oasis for a nobleman at some time in the past, but now it was crammed full of erroneous sheep awaiting a word from their shepherd. Men draped in ragged brown cloaks, regular jeans, and finely made clothes crowded together, some with their wives, murmuring amongst each other, elbowing each other for room, sweating bullets.

Outside, in the equally torrid crumbling courtyard, their shepherd pounded his fists into a disintegrating column causing debris and dust to fall atop his head.

"Mozenrath, calm down!" Nasira Nejem, Mozenrath's mother, massaged her sons' shoulders in an attempt to quiet his rage, to no avail. "The weapons will be here just as Marianne promised, you must be patient–"

"I _have_ been patient!" He whipped around, teeth bared as if he were a feral dog ready to tear the flesh from his mother's face. Sweat made his curly black locks cling to his face, chocolate brown eyes darkened to the point of appearing like black holes. "The French bitch promised me those guns! Why are they not here, what is taking so long!?" He moved to another column and began whacking away again.

"I'm sure your uncle has everything worked out just fine."

"I'm sick of relying on uncle! We relied on him during the first raid of the capitol and that worked out so well!" Mozenrath shouted, referring to an incident the occurred less than a year ago in which he, against his uncles' advice, led a group of his followers under the cover of night into the palace to slay the sultan. His uncle was _supposed_ to have paid the guards to _be elsewhere_ when the deed was done, but, instead, an entire battalion from the Qureshi private military was waiting for them. "I was _this _close to the throne. And where was he–"

"My dear boy, a kingdom is not won simply because you sit in a chair."

With a red scarf draped over his broad shoulders and golden, ruby-eyed cobra staff, Jafar Nejem entered the decaying courtyard, eyes squinted from the sun and in aggravation.

"I am no _**boy**_."

"Ah, yes of course. I must have been hallucinating the part where you threw a tantrum and punched a column to dust."

Mozenrath snatched him by his stupid scarf. "Where are those weapons? You said they'd be here, so where are they!?"

"Unfortunately," Jafar peeled his nephew's grimy gloves from his collar, sneering at the new stains. "Lady Tremaine's company experienced a security breach last night. While production has slowed for her company, she has assured me that the weapons would still be shipping according to schedule, which means that they will be here by tomorrow morning. So the both of you should just relax." He handed his sister a handkerchief to wipe the sweat from her brow.

Apparently still not satisfied, Mozenrath went back to pounding a pillar, swearing under his breath. It was no wonder he was known as "The Brat Prince" by the citizens of Agrabah and the media. No matter how much you entreated to him, tried to appease him, he refused to listen to reason. It had become something of a game for news channels to denounce him on live television for they had no fear of retaliation. The most that would happen is he'd hide out in his lovers' home and pout for a few hours.

This Jafar could see in his nephew, but Nasira still held on to the foolish belief that she could coax him into action with little fairytales of triumph over the Qureshi.

"I know it seems like your plans have been hindered-" Nasira began.

_His plans, _right.

"But, just imagine it. There you are, on the throne. An entire court of your most loyal officers celebrating your ascension. The centerpiece of the entire party, the Sultan's corpse riddled with bullets and the knife you plunged through his heart, ending his wretched existence, strung up like a marionette with all of his tacky scarves. The princesses pretty little head, severed from her body by the same blade that took her father's life, a foot rest for your aching feet."

Sensing a bit of bile come up into his mouth, Jafar turned to face the golden desert sands trying to shake the horrid image conjured up by his sister from his mind. Nasira had always had a talent for envisioning terrifying scenes of gore of people that she despised. It was sometimes a feeling of pride at his sisters' ruthlessness that filled his chest, and other times, feelings of dread at the idea that his dear sister could say such foul things, suddenly transitioning from a worried mother to a wicked minstrel, and possibly act on those cruel intentions. Such violent endeavors only women of lesser worth would imagine or participate in, and women of the Nejem name were too fine of specimens to degrade themselves in such a way.

"I don't want to imagine it, mother," Mozenrath replied, much calmer than he had a few moments earlier. A grotesque as Nasira's visions were, they had always worked to quiet Mozenrath's tantrums.

"I know, my son, and it will." Her malicious intent was almost perfectly masked by the melodious maternal caress in her voice. "Now, my noble son, go and be a shepherd to these lost people. Lead your aimless flock to glory. They need your guidance."

Rubbing his eyes in feigned frustration in an attempt to erase his tears, Mozenrath let his mother lead him back into the decaying palace. Peering through the red curtains into what must have once been a decadent ballroom, the would-be usurper turned to his uncle again.

"Leave everything to us, my dear boy, and I assure you the throne will be yours."

While his snake-ish grin would have unsettled the lunch of any man of sound mind, it gave Mozenrath a renewed gusto.

With a whip of his black cape, the young man parted the curtains and floated into the room. Whereas his followers stood in a pit of shifting sand, sweltering in the sun, Mozenrath stood atop a raised stage, the center of the crowd's attention. Their gazes trained on him like wild dogs to their master.

"Brothers. Sisters. In my twenty-five years of life, I have learned many things that others of my age could only dream of discovering in such a short time. I understand how the tiny cells within our bodies make us, keep us strong; I know the history of our land and of the noble men whose blood flows through this earth, keeping us strong. Yet, I know still that there is much more for me to learn. The defining mark of a great man is his ability to teach his wisdom, but also to learn from others. In order to learn, we must question everything. We must question authority. Why must we follow these rules? Why must we accept these ideals as truth? We must question our very existence. Where did we come from? Who created us? Why are we here? Why am I here? Why are _you_ here?" Mozenrath gestured to man whose face was level with the toe of his black boot. He began to circle the stage, waving his hands over the crowd. "And most importantly, what is our purpose? You and I, all of us are here because we're angry, livid, irate. We're angry at the corruption of the government, the disgusting ostentatiousness of the nobility. Both of these entities are embodied by our common enemy, the Qureshi. Their media outlets and politicians submit you to their will by feeding you lies of impending war and bomb threats to ensure that you never question what they are doing."

The denizens in the pit began to murmur in agreement, nodding, and quietly applauding. He saw their faces, the escalating emotions of anger and the dissipation of doubt as he continued his grand speech. He was in his element. All eyes were on him, the heavenly spotlight illuminating his figure, the scarlet red curtains behind him, contrasting directly with his black, navy, and gold attire. Another surge of energy shot through Mozenrath, igniting everything within him. He felt the prickling of his body hairs as they stood on end, the quickening of his heartbeat, the rippling of his muscles, the tightening of his breeches. It was a _glorious_ sensation.

"They swindle your money from you. They raise your taxes, spend federal money meant for healthcare, transportation, and _education-_" he spied a gruff looking fat man to his left standing next to a very thin, chubby faced little boy, possibly his son, whose blue shirt was covered in dust and sand with his hand on the young boys shoulder. No doubt his lie on the lack of funding for education struck a deep enough cord with them to ensure their allegiance.

"-on weapons of mass destruction. And then, they parade them in front of the cameras, claiming 'military exercises' or 'official government testing'. But you and I know better. We know what they're really doing. The Qureshi are sending us message. They say '_We_ have the power! We know this, and so will you. We will tell you of our power, we will show you our power, and we will use our power against all who dare to speak or _think _against us. We know and you know that the ruse of equal representation in the government is just that. And you will beg and plead and pray, and they will extend a comforting hand to help you up out of the dirt, and they will brush to dust from your clothes, but this also is artifice. The same hand that cleans you will be the same hand at your throat in the next moment."

Nasira and her brother peeked from behind the curtain when the crowds' praises began to crescendo.

"He's a fantastic speech giver isn't he?" Nasira sighed, placing her hand on her heart with motherly pride.

"Yes, he's about as eloquent as a broken record player," Jafar chuckled. Nasira playfully elbowed him in the rib.

"What exactly happened at the laboratory in America?"

"There was a security breach of their secret Robotics Lab. An employee was found unconscious with a bloodied and broken nose just outside the unit where the cyborg experiments are being kept."

Twirling a strand of her luscious black hair around her slender finger, Nasira asked, "In spite of that, the Corps' needs are still being met?"

"Yes, _our_ plan is moving forward on schedule. The Legion is composed mostly of Magicians, so I highly doubt that they'll understand this new technology outside of phones and computers, nor would they be willing to whole-heartedly contest with civilians combined with machines as they would androids."

"Well met, brother."

* * *

**Bellez Castle – Training Room**

**Emeryville, CA**

**Sunday, 8 February 2015**

**2:15 [PST] PM**

The training room the Legion used to whip its members into shape wasn't exactly _a _room; it was, rather, several rooms that split off from a central, rectangular atrium, divided again between an upper and lower floor. Right when you walked in, to your right there would be a tablet that would tell you who was using what room, how long they'd be using it, and on what days if they were on a regimented schedule. It was a part of ., the security artificial intelligence created by Vanellope that monitored the activity in Bellez.

For today, Sabre-de-lis, Powhatan's Pride, and Shadow Vine were scheduled to train upstairs in the Dark Room and at the Range. The two rooms were the largest of the four upper rooms. They ran the length of the wider sides of the training room and were contained by one-sided blackened glass, so one could see into the room, but whoever was inside couldn't be distracted by anything or anyone outside.

Even though the heist was two whole days away, it felt like it was coming in the next thirty minutes. The trio had been training for almost three hours now and it was starting to wear on their muscles.

The Range was named such because it could work as an archery, shooting, or knife throwing range with moving targets and environmental simulation technology. Sabre was practicing her throwing skills with the stiletto knives given to her by Rosemaling. They were laced with the venom of the Japanese hornet; not enough to kill anyone, but enough to send a grown man into fits of howls as his skin boiled and burned. Rose and Thorn, the dual rapiers that she usually brought with her on assignments, were too long to bring into an underground storage unit where, more than likely, the intricate labyrinth of metal shelves would cause multiple echoes if she went into this no doubt tight environment swinging her swords every which way. So, knives it was. It had been quite a while since she'd practiced throwing anything really, so she was definitely rusty.

Across the atrium in the Dark Room, called such for being primarily used in stealth training, Powhatan and Shadow Vine were working to fine tune Shadow Vine's "night vision". It wasn't the same as the goggles; when she was in total darkness she saw things through these colorful vibrations only visible to her; it's where the "Shadow" part of her name came from. Animals and people created them with their movements or their heartbeat if it sped up; she saw sessile and non-living things by stamping on the ground with her bare feet, which sent out the same colorful vibrations, and when they hit an object it allowed her to see the shapes. If Tremaine got wind of them on the day of the heist, no question she'd turn out all the lights in an attempt to discombobulate them, so it was imperative that Shadow Vine hone this skill.

"Alright, Tiana, setting it to _Random Terrain_!"

"I'm ready."

In the center of the room, Powhatan set the conditions of the room at a console that rose out of the floor. There were about ten different terrain types, over thirty weather variations, an equal number of wildlife sounds, and other features that aided in training sessions. Legionnaires couldn't always be out in the field and train on actual terrain, so the Dark Room was the go to place for all their outdoorsy needs.

Immediately when Powhatan tapped the '_Initiate' _button, all the lights shut off and the floor began to move. The tiles that the duo had been standing on shifted left, right, backward, and forward.

Shadow Vine shut her eyes and inhaled. The Odie vines that hung around her waist readied themselves, contorting like snakes about to spring on their prey. The plants responded in this way whenever one of Shadow's senses were impaired. They were perfect for combat as they rarely needed water, were prehensile, meaning they could grasp things, and moved according to her will since she possessed the ability of arborkinesis, making them opportune for mobility and close-quarter fighting.

Once the floor stopped moving, Shadow Vine opened her eyes. As her eyes naturally adjusted to the darkness, she realized that she had been moved closer to the glass, whereas before she had been nearer the center of the room before when the lights were on, and she had no idea where Powhatan was. Good.

For a long while, everything was quiet. Standing in the still silence would have sent anyone else into a frenzy, but not Shadow. She felt most serene in these surroundings. A sudden splash of color, blue-green swirls and orange ripples, floated in front of her eyes signaling that there was an obstacle forming in front of her. The sides of her vision began to vibrate with violet and red waves as the rest of the room began to shift. Cubes began to rise in columns out of the floor and arrange in irregular leaning shapes. The ceiling became the night sky, twinkling with stars, and the floor became soil, or at least a holographic representation of soil. A forest setting was always a good beginning environment for stealth practice: limited visibility, ominous sounds all around, heat, and those godforsaken twigs someone always manage to step at the most inconvenient moments.

Reaching out with the vines, Shadow discerned that there was no one within a twenty-foot radius of her, but with the artificial tweeting of birds and singing of cicadas, it was hard to concentrate on anything for real.

But then she felt it.

A faint rumble that sent tingles up her shins to her knees. Another, more intense than the last. Another.

Shadow Vine slammed her foot on the ground once more. The ripples of yellow and green that spread out around her revealed the forest setting in its entirety. That's when she noticed the club whizzing towards her head.

"Jesus Christ!" She shouted. The vines catapulted her into the air just in time to dodge the giant club that slammed into the other wall.

"You're the reason half the things in this buildin' are broken with that big ass club you keep swingin' everywhere!"

"Well then, maybe you-"

Powhatan had to be punching herself in the face for blurting out like that and giving away her position. Shadow couldn't actually believe she'd fallen for it, but never say never.

Powhatan tended to be one of the more focused members of the Legion, alongside Lioness and Restless Knight, but when it came to Shadow or Dragon Fire's banter, she could be easily distracted. When the three of them were together, they were like high school kids, always joking around and that was probably why they were rarely ever assigned to missions together.

Shadow Vine hoisted herself into a tree to get a better vantage point. She slammed a tough foot against a branch sending a wave of color down the bark. Again there was no sign of Powhatan. Remembering the discarded club, she hopped down from the tree and, using the vines to carry herself across the room instead of walking on her own two feet, retrieved the club. Very close to her back she heard a stifled growl. She couldn't help but chuckle.

Clearly, Powhatan wasn't having any of that and sprang from the bush in which she hid and took Shadow Vine by the ankles. As they came slamming onto the floor, Powhatan quickly snatched up her club. Taking the ends of the Odie vines in one hand, the club in the other, she pressed one huge foot against Shadow Vine's back.

"Feels like I'm stepping on a squishy little frog instead of a trained martial artist," she laughed.

"Ugh, why are you so heavy?!"

"It's called 'muscle'."

The overhead lights suddenly flashed on and both Shadow and Powhatan's eyes began to sting with the strength of a thousand bees. Who in the hell was interrupting their training?

"Oh, so sorry," Sabre huffed. Judging by the sweat beads coagulating in her cleavage, she'd worked herself too hard and didn't give herself a break. When she focused on a task sometimes it meant working non-stop, her mind utterly concentrated on that one thing. Either that, or she couldn't keep a single train-of-thought and you'd wish she had a one track mind. That's how it usually was with Belle, she operated in extremes.

"I was just thinking about the meeting that Elsa called earlier today. I know Fleur was called in, but she hasn't spoken to me at all since she returned home."

"Oh yeah," Shadow Vine replied. "Lioness said that Jasmine and Al got into a shouting match again, but what else is new?"

"That may be why there's so much strain in the whole group. I tried talking to Aurora and Anna a few hours ago and they both seemed…distant," Powhatan commented.

Powhatan finally removed her foot from Shadow Vine's back, allowing her to stand.

"I'm pretty sure it's also because of the fact that Elsa's _not_ sending anyone in to rescue Tremaine's test subjects until _after _the Agrabah thing's out of the way," said Shadow, dusting off her yoga pants.

Powhatan and Sabre exchanged looks of astonishment and worry. Typically, Cryo would be all for rescuing innocent civilians and getting a chance to fuck up Tremaine's stuff, but typically there wasn't a civil war that affected a fellow Legionnaire as well as an entire sector of the world happening at the same time.

"This'll definitely put a damper and El and Al's pillow talk," Powhatan chuckled. "But still, she could have easily tacked a rescue mission on to the heist. It wouldn't have been too difficult."

"Yes, well, Elsa has made her decision, and not many really have the means to rehabilitate those poor people-" Belle sighed. "If only they were closer to the underground units, then it would be easier to get them out."

* * *

**It's _FINALLY_ here! Issue 2! So ****So ****So ****So ****So ****So S****o ****So ****So ****Soooooo sorry this a whole 3 months late, but I did it! Hope you enjoy it!**


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